


Jealousy, the Great Seductress

by sofarfetched



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 23:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofarfetched/pseuds/sofarfetched
Summary: The new Supreme is endlessly busy with work for the bustling Miss Robichaux’s. Misty thinks of something that might be fun for the both of them, or so she thinks. Cordelia had never been a jealous woman before.





	Jealousy, the Great Seductress

**Author's Note:**

> prompt - foxxay & yoga
> 
> From my Tumblr. Re-post.

“Hey, Delia?”

“What is it? I’m very busy right now, so if yo-” she called out absentmindedly, distracted by the piles of paper work stockpiled on her desk. Cordelia stopped herself short when she glanced up to see a mass of pale blonde waves and ringlets spring into view from behind the door. “Oh, Misty, it’s you. Come in; what’s up?” The younger woman offered a shy smile before slipping into the pristine office, her skirts rustling against the wooden doorframe as she shut the door quietly behind her.

“Well, I just saw that you’ve been real tired and stressed out lately, what with all these new girls flyin’ in through the windows and whatnot, so I was doin’ some research and found something that maybe you’d wanna try with me?” She stood nervously in front of the desk, almost like a nervous student before a strict teacher. 

The Supreme tilted her head slightly, looking at the woman in front of her with playful consideration sketching across her features, her brow arching slowly to a point, before she let the papers she had been holding slide from her hands. “Tell me more.” 

Misty continued onwards. Encouraged, she moved around the desk to perch on the edge. “Well, ya see, I was lookin’ up natural, spiritual techniques to help combat stress an’ stuff? And yoga and meditation came up a bunch of times. I really like the idea of movement of breath bringing life an’ spiritual balance an’ all that. I think it makes a lotta sense.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Misty. I actually used to practice yoga a lot before all the witch-hunter and Supreme business came along… I would love to go to a yoga class with you.” she smiled lightly, continuing, “There’s a center downtown that has some really great classes. I believe they have a Bikram class, and if I remember the schedule correctly, and they haven’t changed it, there’s a class in about an hour and a half. I could see you really enjoying Bikram, Misty, it combines traditional yoga techniques and postures with high heat and humidity.”

A giggle escaped the other witch, “You makin’ fun of my former swamp life, Miss. Delia?” 

The older witch leapt to her feet, her hands moving towards Misty’s shoulders. “N-no! Of course not. I just… every time we go back to the swamp to check on your place and the garden, and you’re just so in your element and I just thought that maybe you — and the environment, it’s supposed to facilitate the flushing of toxins and improves physical performance and I just —”

“Delia, I’m just  _teasin’_  you, goodness!” she nudged her hip gently against Cordelia’s. “You’re gettin’ yourself all flustered over my silly comments. You really do need a break, don’t ya?” her small smile belied a genuine concern crinkling at the inner corners of her brow. 

"I really do, Mist. Thank you for thinking of me.”

———-

The heat in the room was a mix of relaxing yet surprisingly stimulating in its heavy presence. Cordelia had been right: Misty was, in fact, in her element. She just hadn’t realized to what extent she had predicted correctly. The two women had been amongst the last few to enter, women and men already forming two lines parallel to the mirrored wall in the room. With the class full to capacity, Cordelia had offered to take the spot in the front and center of the room, and Misty had regulated herself to a spot in the row behind and one spot to the left.

In the mirror, Cordelia could see Misty’s wild, spiraling hair piled high in a messy bun on the top of her head, a slight sheen of perspiration already building along her neck, visible as she tilted her head back to take a small sip of water. The older witch had tried to control her staring, but the attire required for Bikram wasn’t exactly discreet. A stretch of deep red fabric swathed Misty’s torso, wrapping over her shoulders and down the middle of her back, clinging tightly against her ribcage and dipping down just low enough to be teasing but was still fit enough to remain absolutely snug during poses. The lean lines of muscle from working out in the swamp were visible as Misty stretched slowly from side to side, rolling her neck before catching Cordelia’s eye in the mirror and smiling brightly, sending over a small, enthusiastic wave through the reflection. She had the decency to flush, though it was hard to gauge the distinction between her embarrassment at nearly being caught and the heat that was causing the blood in her face to rise upwards anyways. Still, her mind nagged, that she hadn’t catalogued the tiny, color-matching lycra shorts that Misty had picked out. Said shorts were practically glued to an endless expanse of pale skin, the vibrant red leading down to legs that just seemed to go on and on… 

Cordelia shook her head slightly, clearing her thoughts.  _Get it together! The class hasn’t even begun and you’re already this much of a mess?_ Collecting her hair into the palms of her hand, she tugged the sleek mass into a tight ponytail, hoping the tightness lingering at her skull would offer a focal point for the following 90 minutes. As Cordelia glanced across the room through the mirror, she noticed Misty’s gaze lingering on her own outfit and smiled a little indulgently to herself. Her choices weren’t vastly different, a slightly different style top in black was adhered to her body, tight but not uncomfortably so. And her shorts were only slightly longer in any sense of decency.  _Not so bad_ ,  _apparently definitely more than just good enough_ , her thoughts laughed at her. Her brain reprimanded her with a quiet reminder that yoga was about physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional connection with the self, not with how absolutely alluring her friend ( _?_ ) looked in small patterns of burgundy cloth. 

———-

 _Yes,_ Cordelia thought to herself,  _this was definitely not a great idea on my part._  

Though she had been pleased that her body still slipped into most of the poses with relative ease, and while she had been happy to discover that the same instructor was still teaching the class as she had been when Cordelia had started coming to the studio a couple of years ago, she was not so thrilled with the unmistakable glint of attraction she saw in the yogi’s cat like gaze, a gaze aimed directly at Misty, who was just slightly out of line for a perfect triangle pose. Haley was the girl’s name, with perfectly slicked back reddish-brown hair and eyes that were reminiscent of blue slate. She strode, with an effortless grace of someone whose body had been trained in fluidity, through the classroom with intent, moving smoothly to Misty’s side, and pressed her small flat palm against the other woman’s lower back, straightening her position to align with the sides of the room. Cordelia could see her own bristling response in the mirror’s reflection and found she barely recognized herself. 

She wanted to blame her flaring emotions on the perpetual state of heat the room was in which left her mind feeling much the same way. But every little touch, every “fixed” pose, made Cordelia want to let out a scream that would do more than break the otherwise relative silence of the room, it would absolutely shatter it. Inside her throat, her vocal cords buzzed, desperately hissing repeated strands of ‘she’s mine’ and ‘fuck off’. 

By the time the entire class was in Savasana, completing the session with final breathing, and their instructor had left the room, it took every last shred of self-control that Cordelia had to not jump across the room, out the door, and question Haley’s audacity to touch Misty so consistently. All of the touches had been innocent enough, but with each spot of skin claimed that she herself had not touched, well, it left Cordelia more at fuming than Misty’s intended plan of calm. In fact, her spirit felt anything but balanced. 

The younger witch, on the other hand, rested completely lax on her mat, taking in slow and steady breaths that lifted her entire form, like she was almost floating. Cordelia watched her from the corner of her eye, feeling a tugging inside of her chest that insisted it be acted upon. As she waited for Misty to come up from her quiet reprieve, almost every other class member had gotten up and left the still hot room. Finally, Misty had opened her eyes and sat up with a pleasantly dazed look across her face. She looked over at Cordelia before standing up with her things and moving towards the showers as conspicuously as possible, unaware that the other woman’s attention had already been solely focused on her. 

After a few seconds of regulating her breath, Cordelia headed off in the same direction, in search of a certain inadvertently captivating blonde. She found Misty tugging her hair out of her bun, the curls loose and damp with sweat, a towel flung across her forearm, and drifting off towards the shower. 

Cordelia intersected her path, pressing the other woman against the cool white marble tiles of one of the pristine studio showers. She was briefly grateful that the rest of the class had emptied out into either the other showers or had left the building altogether. Her eyes met the surprised but calm ocean gaze of Misty Day and it was almost as if Misty had been expecting all along that her day would end with her caught between Cordelia and a shower wall. And so, the older witch decided, if it had been an inevitability all along, who was she to deny that fate?

She caught Misty’s jawline in one hand, the other delving into heavy curls as she pulled the younger woman’s lips to hers. Every desirous moment and fleeting emotion hit both women heavy-handedly across the chest when their lips met. A small nip of her lower lip left Cordelia reveling in the sound of a whimper coming from Misty’s open mouth; encouraged, she tugged a bit and a bit harder, her possessiveness striking out to leave the soft pink flesh marked with her claim. Elation swept relaxation across Cordelia’s features when she finally acknowledged the fervor with which Misty had responded to her kiss. Yes, their mouths fit together and moved together just so, and her leg felt so right pressed between the taller woman’s legs, up against endless heat and trembling muscle. 

“Misty Day … I just … want you … to know …” Cordelia breathed out between her frantic kisses, when she dared to take her lips away for mere seconds (and in those seconds, the younger woman’s lips would find her chin and her jaw, and their flush torsos would beat gently together with labored breaths), “that you … are mine." 

“‘Course I am, Delia. Whose else would I be?” 


End file.
